Sam and I received a note from Mrs. P last month, thanking me for the post and letting us know that she was coming to town to do a reading. Sam could not believe it. I have never seen him look or react in the way that he did, going from open mouth shock to downright giggly embarrassment. It was as though Big Bird and The President had decided to drop by the house carrying a Fraggle under their arms for good luck. My son was flummoxed.

He is totally confused and excited how exactly he's going to see Mrs. P outside her virtual library and asks me 16 times a day what I think she'll be wearing and how many stories she might read (as he is usually only allowed two at a time). As such, I am looking as forward to it being done and dusted as he is for the actual event. So... if you are so inclined (and you really should be):

Story Time with Mrs. PThursday, February 26 at 11amPowell's on Cedar Hills Blvd

There are going to be loads of good people there, and as it's a school day, I would imagine a good number of them will be on the smaller side.

This is not the only trip we have planned... we are tagging along with Paul's class to the Harlem Globe Trotters Game on Saturday. I haven't even told Sam about this one yet. I'm not sure his small body could bear the anticipation. We all have to get well, though, so that's top priority. As for this last weekend, in my stuffy nose haze I really am thrilled with the amount of work we got done on the weekend and I know all good things have to come to end one way or another. Since my nannying days, I have come to terms with the "end" taking the form of some temporary illness or laundry or both. Anticipating the sick makes it so much easier to take, I think. And the laundry, well, I just put away the last load this morning so take that, Karma.

Do you smell that? That is the smell of progress. And wood veneer. And low VOC paint. I emerged from the long weekend with three sick children and a pile of laundry so large it blocked the front door. I expected all of this, because it's what you get when you try to accomplish a whole lot of out-of-the-ordinary things and actually come close to getting them done.

We plan on doing some painting this weekend. I realize that this sounds like crazy talk, but I prefer blind optimism to actual craziness. We'll probably be using paint we already have and working on Sam's new room. Which means, oh, I don't know, total chaos as his new room is our room and my sewing stuff... blah, blah, blah.

While trying to ignore all this realness, I'm focusing on the end product. The little boys are going to inherit the alphabet prints and Sam's sweet yella' room. I'm thinking about big boy art. Martha and Sally have got my number (Sam and I have both been plotting colours and the sorts of tools he's going to need). And so does Mr. Ward Jenkins. You may know him from his highly addictive flickr group or his equally addictive wife. Now get familiar with his extremely affordable and adorable (er, I mean dope) prints.I *think* he's going to start selling prints from his b-boy show last year, and best of all, you can look through his flickr sets and contact him about prints of stuff you like. Sam is flipping out over this above business. And the kids in space. I haven't found it very easy to find art for Sam that he likes or cares about-- four year-olds are so much older than they appear to be, but you know, they're still four. Or almost five, I guess. Thanks, Ward. It helps that you're an awfully nice guy, too.

I have not completely embraced the pageantry of having a kid in school-- special days, fundraisers, book fairs... they have taken me by surprise a little. Because Sam is only in PreK, I didn't imagine it would start really going until next year. Okay. I know. You're all snickering into your screens. I am so naive. It's good though (especially the book fairs. I love me some book fairs.) and I don't even blink now when I see the sign-up sheet hanging outside the classroom door. Chaperons? Snacks? Twenty-one valentines? No problem.

I had Sam sign all the cut cards first before we did any decorating. It's the tedious bit, and I didn't want to have to forge his four year-old script the night before when he pronounced carpal tunnel and put himself to bed. He picked out the fabric scraps, I cut out the hearts and polk-a-dots, and then he glued them on. The whole project took about 45 minutes.

He's going to be mad when he receives Speed Racer and Spiderman cards in return, and realizes that such things exist. I have a feeling this will be the first and last year of the homemade tags.

For every triumph, there are always lots and lots of failures around here. You know-- little things, like Augie getting into the Method body wash causing Paul to remark that his next two diapers smelled like he had been eating weed. Then, Saturday afternoon I cloistered myself in my room, only to emerge several (precious) hours later with one of the most ridiculous pieces of clothing I've ever attempted: think blouse turned 17th century painter's smock fit for a bosomy old man. I also accidentally smashed two dishes. I never used to break things.

Good stuff? The laundry got done. Awesome. AND, my order from Leslie arrived safe and sound and stuffed full of extra goodies for the boys, immediately elevating the weekend from heading steadily downhill to being pretty great.

Do you like unfinished business? Yick. I don't know many people who do. There is so much in my life that stays undone, so it's nice to celebrate the little finishes.

The year long quilting bee is over with the mailing off of the last three blocks. I will receive my blocks at some point and have to deal with those, but as far as everybody else goes, I finished up this week. I will miss mailing Jennifer her envelope (I finally memorized her address), especially since she did such a great job organizing and taking care of the whole project.

So-- Eren's block, which took me longer than a much larger quilt might have, but was still a good time:

We started remodeling the basement, as the novelty of sleeping in a room with babies is going to wear a little thin on our visitors. And the whole one toilet thing is starting to wear a little thin on me.

Our oven broke. We broke the oven. Paul threw something and broke the oven. This has been bumped on to February's list.

We got our converter box for the little TV upstairs. It's right by the sewing machine and hot-diggety, I now get 5 channels of the TBN and 3 channels of Public Television.

That last one has been getting me through my diaper ridden days. I love how machine sewing is completely solitary. Like, don't let the door hit you on the way out solitary. We are switching our house around to accommodate our life and I think my solo sewing days might be over soon. I am not going down without a fight, mind you, and I'm also working hard to use up some fabric piles and consolidate a little.

This fabric was not in one of those piles because it is new. It is a lightweight cotton corduroy that I bought at the Depot (Kaufman, I think). The pattern is based on a basic raglan hoodie (in the SEWU Stretch book) that's been modified (zipper placket, length, etc.) to work with a woven fabric and to look a little more structured. Also, to look more like I shop at PacSun in the Mall, apparently.

The body is lined with some kind of technical waffle knit that I got at RCT (something wickaway) and the hood is lined with a red striped Japanese cotton.

The best part? Someone you know got a matching print, so be prepared for twinsie photos sometime soon-- maybe something coy yet sporting.

My friend Trish offered to take care of Manny's birth announcements while I was still in Florida. She was busy trying to sell me on the idea while I screamed YES YES YES into the phone. It was either have her do them, or begin planning on how I was going to forgive myself for not doing them at all. Letting someone do that for me was a special sort of letting go that I'm getting quite good at-- at least compared to last year this time.

They arrived two weeks ago in a box that also contained envelopes, return address stickers and stamps. Stamps!

And just like that, she helped me kill the rest of January's list. That is a good friend.